


6:15 am

by Leftleg (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ? - Freeform, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Beating, Blood Play, Blood and Torture, Body Worship, Depravity, Don't @ Me, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, hmm don't like this, it's like flogging but also like caning, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 17:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14836212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Leftleg
Summary: He wakes up in a bed, and oh, hey, there's Mr.Stark! Hi, Mr. Stark!---The title has nothing to do with the story btw, that's just the time I started writing





	6:15 am

**Author's Note:**

> oops I woke up to write this and no i didn't beta read it, it's 9 am right now.  
> uh disclaimer: No i do not support Starker, no i do not support minor/adult relationships, etc. I just, idk, whenever i write these, I normally imagine myself in the place of the submissive so eh

He was groggy, head lolling to the side like dead weight on the mattress. He was tied, arms bound behind his back, tied at the wrists and his legs bound at the ankles by solid rope. His mouth was covered with a thick piece of tape,  a crude smile drawn on the gray surface with a sharpie. Peter couldn't remember where he was out how he got there, but through hazy, tired eyes, he could see the dark of a dimly lit room, and the top corner of a bed’s canopy.

His back lifted slightly off the bed when he writhed slowly, trying to stretch himself out and roll,  but found it difficult when he felt the rough chafing of the coiled rope in his wrists that dug and burned into his skin.  Still, with the use of the weight of his legs, he was able to roll weakly to his back, leaving him facing the upper canopy, spread eagle and exposed in ways he couldn't yet imagine.  

He blinked slowly, unbelievably drowsy,and felt a cold breeze spread over his naked flesh,  creeping up from his raw ankles and up his legs and over his sensitive crotch, then up and over his torso and head. With the wave of cool,  his body rolled up with it, and under the tape, he groaned.

It didn't register to Peter that he was in any danger,  the place he was in felt familiar and the clogging of his senses made it hard for him to grasp the fact that he was naked, gagged, and tied to a bed.  No, it didn't really seep in until the sound of a door opened, a bright sliver of golden light coming through the crack of the door and hitting him in the face, the light leaving one eye dazed after the door closed again. It somewhat woke him up, then his heart began to patter. He became a little nervous at the clicks of shoes on the floor,  coming closer to his bed. Due to the dark, and the inability to raise his heavy had, Peter couldn't tell who it was coming for him, but his senses,whatever awakened part of them, spiked. He tried to move again, but stopped when the footsteps did.

Peter still could barely see them in the dark, even up that close, plus his eye was still incapacitated with spots from being struck with the light.  A headache rung in his head, dip he gave up the useless attempt to peek at the person watching him.

“Morning, Spiderling. How are you?”

Peter shivered, body sinking in a inward cringe. It was Tony studying standing above him, speaking as if it were just any normal morning.  Peter tried the ropes, but they didn't budge, the layered coils were stiff as conditioned steel. Pete made a noise, his newly awakened mind them registered the tape when he couldn't open his mouth to speak, sending him into a mild panic mode. His brows furrowed, head throbbing when he rolled his legs and body- his nakedness and vulnerability made Tony's face heat, watching how the lithe, smooth and muscled body below moved in its slow wave until it reached the boy's neck and he threw his head back against the pillows. It was seductive- the very definition of seductive, and Tony couldn't help but flex his hand to keep from rubbing himself at the s sight of Peter bound and ready for whatever it was he was going to give him.  It was Tony's time to make a sound, a low groan getting into his throat as he watched Peter panic- the boys strong legs and thighs trembling and his thin hips lightly jutting up, then sinking down into the bed with each roll, his limp cock bouncing and his lightly haired balls shifted when he moved. God, Peter was so damn gorgeous, Tony swore he was going to lose his mind.

“Peter,” the boy's body dropped with a bounce, his legs falling open and this cock dangling between them.  When he realized his nudity, a full blush replaced his tanned skin, leaving him a bright red, and he closed his legs quickly,  pressing his thighs and knees together tightly. It was uncomfortable after a bit, and his legs shook from the awkward position, but he refused to open them,  watching for Tony's next move. “Peter, you're so pretty. Damn you're pretty.” Tony reached out his free hand to Peter's trembling knees, and pulled at them to part, which Peter allowed with a reluctance.  He breathed, Tony wouldn't hurt him, would he? He'd threaten and be stem, but he'd never hurt him, right?

This touch made Peter's blush darken. He being complemented and touched by his mentor and idol and something inside burned at the thought.

Tony ran his hand down the fat and muscle of Peter's leg, gently dragging his rough hands from Peter's knee and up hours thigh, feeling the soft skin and the hard muscle beneath it under his fingers,  and didn't stop until he reached his inner thigh, cupping the sensitive patch there with his hand, then rubbed the area, up and down the patch of skin, his knuckles just barely touching the underside of Peter's smooth sack.  Peter was shaking and sweating, burning and longing under the caressing hand of his superior. He closed his eyes and let Tony touch him as he liked, secretly wanting and waiting for the elder to do more than rub and fondle his hips and legs.

Tony took his hand from the boy, breaking Peter's daze.  He stood in contemplative silence. Now, what Tony had planed was simple.  It was an act of discipline and hard, tough love that would leave one of them bloodied and bruised for the days to come. In his right hand,  Tony held a long, thin metal rod, something that resembled vaguely of a sounding rod, and was shaking it in thought, letting it tap against his own thigh as he eyed Peter's. He brought the rod up for view,  and tapped it on hours palm like a school teacher does a ruler.

“Peter, you know what this is for?”

The boy shook his head, nervous.

“Good. You shouldn't. You're too young to know.” he brought the metal to Peter's inner thigh, the cold causing the boy to gasp, before Tony scratched him with it. “I'm gonna show you.”

He finally said, and brought the rod up and then back down with a force onto the skin. The sound of the first hit radiated around the room and Peter screamed behind the gag, his body convulsed at the strike,  and he began to shake in fear. The first blow turned to a red welt, a pretty thing that marked the skin, and without any warning, Tony did it again, bringing the metal down hard on him. This blow was on the other leg,  matching the first, and Peter tightened up and clenched, tears formed in his eyes and he closed his legs again to hide from the pain, but Tony cooed at him, sweetening him to open back up. Peter tensed still, his abs flexing and his quads showing as he braced himself for Stark, his nails digging into his palms and his jaw clenched as if seamed by iron.

Peter was screaming, yes, _screaming_ under the gag and _fuck_ , Tony couldn't help himself when he heard it.  The sound of Peter reduced to whimpering and crying- _shrieking_ because of him, egged Tony on. He couldn't stop. He couldn't stop because Peter would give him the chance to- the boy was jolting and reacting in the sweetest fucking way,  thrusting his hips and brandishing his cute little dick and moaning every time he hit him.

“ _Fuck_ , kid you're gorgeous.” he said through clenched teeth and Peter didn't respond to the words, only the touch,  throwing his head back and arching when Tony landed a particularly hard blow to his cock, leaving a bright red line from shaft to base that opened up and released a single drop of blood. The sensation made him harden, cock lifting with a little bounce,and shit Tony was in the deep end now, his hard member pressing against the fabric of his tracksuit.

He kept going, striking  one then the other relentlessly. He went until the room’s silence was filled with the non-stop sound of slapped skin and Peter's muffled cries and groans. Each time Tony hot one leg,  he hit the other, driven by some insatiable frustration that burned in his chest and came out through his arms and into his swings. He was _beating_ Peter with the rod,  beating him until the long lines of the welts turned to valleys with blood pooling at their centers, until the only visible skin on the boy's inner thighs was nothing more than bruised red.  In the midst of his beating, Tony's hits began to intersect, leaving his legs in a beautifully macabre red, bleeding, and welted plaide. Blood oozed and slid from the cuts, collecting and dripping onto the white comforter.

At some point Peter's weeps turned to silent tears that clouded his vision and cooled down his warm cheeks. The pain in his thighs was an unbearable throbbing, and his legs began to cramp from being open so long. Tony pulled back from him, looking over the metal he had used,  blood had collected on it and a fast droplet slipped from it and onto his forefinger, where he rubbed the liquid between his thumb and finger until it went dry. Some part of Tony didn't believe he had done this, didn't believe that he coerced a literal _child_ into his home,  knocked him out, and then beat the shit out of him. He just...couldn't find that part in him that could've done it. It was certainly a bolder part of him,  a part that reared its ugly head when Tony least expected it, bit he was glad that whoever it was fronting _was_ fronting, because it made the next ordeal easier to bear.

Tony watched Peter withe again, watching his hips roll and his cock jolt, the hot line on its underbelly producing another drip that slid from the wound and rolled over his balls, painting them a red line on their rounds. The low whimper and the display was enough to get him off, he figured, palming himself with his free hand through his pants, pressing his bulge against the heel of his hand,  eyes never leaving the desperate vision. He shuddered while he rubbed himself, mind wandering with the idea of the bloodied teen, and found that he couldn't.

This wasn't just a fantasy in his head,  he couldn't act like it now.

The bolder Tony pushed him to the bed, the rod resting not forgotten on the blanket,  as he settled into the space between those fine, bleeding legs, and braced his hands on Peter's knees.  The boy jolted at the touch, but Tony didn't relent, doing as he did before: running the palms of his hands down their own accompanying thigh, moving slowly over the ridges and cuts,  blood slickening his path up to Peter's hips, where the blood drenched hands circled his member, then went for the attack. Massaging up his privates, Tony started with the balls, pressing firmly, but carefully on the tight skin,  fondling the perfectly round testes, covering them in the red of their owner. He pressed the pad of goods thumbs between them, toying with the skin, then moved upward, his large hands encompassing the the thickness of Peter's stout dick, kneading it to full  hardness with his fingers. Peter looked away, glad his mouth was taped so he could escape the embarrassment of moaning from Tony's hands on him. The pain in his thighs were still clear in his brain, but the dull throb was tuned out by attention to his member. He cursed himself for being so malleable- allowing Tony to do this to him with so little resistance. It made him sick thinking about it, how he'd let this grown man take him and do whatever he liked just because Peter may or may not have jerked it to the thought of this- of Stark’s big hands moving over him, of his lips pressing against him and his- Peter thrusted, getting too deep into his head at the moment.  

Tony had taken the liberty to kiss the exposed tip, pulling down the foreskin with his fingers to expose it more, and brought the entire head into his mouth,  licking at the slit with the tip of his tongue, catching a minor taste of salt. This took Peter by surprise, his legs tensed and his hips thrusting up, pushing himself deeper into the warmth,  which Tony let him do, taking him all in, the taste of Peter's sweat and precum, but the metallic taste of his blood mixing together on his tongue and in his mouth, making a sweet cocktail. Tony's hands wandered back to the thighs, squeezing them,  and forcing Peter the tense and shift again while he sucked him off.

He licked the welt on Peter's cock, tasting the metal me prominent there, and groaned around the shaft, bobbing and rolling his head while he blew him, tongue still pressed firm to the wound. Peter could only gasp and arch, back bowing off the bed.

 _‘Why is he so good at this? What the hell does Stark do in his free time?’_ he thought to himself, thrusting freely into the heat as much as the other would let him, his hips jiratting at a quickened pace, pushing his cock against the rough tongue that licked and tasted him, fucking up into Tony's mouth.  In just seconds, he was feeling dizzy, his hips seeming to have begun moving on their own as he kept going. His chest swelled, lungs pushing out air as quickly add he got it, his heart rate spiking. Go, without the tape, he'd be a drooling mess, calling out for Tony fuck him down, not even caring anymore about the beating- no he wanted

“ _Mmph!”_

Tony shifted his mouth around the teen, sucking him as fucked into his mouth,  and Peter couldn't take it. Couldn't stand it, he was so close he wanted to beg, wanted to moan it out for Tony to hear.  He gripped the blanket until his knuckles turned white, and he wrapped his calves around Tony's back, hooking his ankles, and catching Tony between his hurt thighs and,   _fuck,_ he was gonna cum. He was gonna cum right in Tony's mouth, cum all over that fucking beard- and _fucking hell_ ,  Tony'd swallow him down and- fuck why did he gag him?

Peter's thrusts were hard, shallowing out as he grew closer to the edge. Tony's hand left his leg and reached up Peter's chest and he scrambled to grab the edge of the tape he had over his mouth, thinking the same thoughts of why he even gagged him in the first placed. Finding purchase,  he ripped the tape off, the sudden and new pain was like a slap to the face, and he came into Tony's mouth with a silent shout, mouth agape and had tossed back into the pillows. His eyes fluttered as went slack, shaking with fron the intensity of his release.

But they weren't done yet.

Tony pulled off, swallowing the salt-copper mixture,  and kissed at the nearest welt, making Peter hiss in pain.

“How do you feel, Spiderling?” he asked between presses of his lips against the wounds. Peter winced.

“Like shit.”

Tony bit down.

“Don't swear.”

“Or what? You'll whip me again?”

Tony grinned,  lapping at the new blood, “Maybe. Maybe I'll do something else. Swear again and we'll see.”

“Fuck you. Is that good?”

“Hmm, give me more than that.” He kissed up Peter's stomach, rubbing over how toned and the bend of his ribcage. He groped his pecs, kissing the underside before taking a nipple into his mouth, nurturing it between his lips and prodding it with his tongue. Peter lifted his chest to meet his mouth, a low sigh left his shaking lips.

“You have great tits, kid.”

Peter giggled like a dork, biting his lip, “Better than Pepper's?”

“You fucking bet.” He sucked harder, then bit it, pulled, then released. “Fuck yeah you bet.”

Tony's cell phone rang suddenly, the noise startling them both. He say up between the teen’s legs, fishing into his pocket for his cell phone and grimaced when he noticed it was May calling. He answered it, mindlessly scratching the boy's stomach with his nails.

“You've reached Tony Stark, how may I help you?”

“Tony, is Peter there? He didn't come home after school so I'm worried.”

“He’s here, sorry that I stole him earlier.” Tony shifted back down to Peter’s legs. They've fucked before, Tony taking him in one of the Quinjets. He smirked,  remembering it- the way Peter's body managed to bend in ways he never thought the human body could. Before Spiderman came into his life, he never knew legs could bend so far back.

And that's all he could remember before May spoke again.

“-Tony it's a school night! Please tell him to come home soon, it's almost curfew.”

“Oh, yeah, will do. In fact, he'll be home within the next hour.”

“Thank you. And tell him he's got a big surprise in the form of a suspension letter from his school when he gets here. He should be thrilled to see it.”

“I-uh- will do.”

So Tony stayed true to his word, untying Peter and helping him to his feet. The welts were angry looking and would surely bruise. Hopefully, Peter wouldn't have gym anytime soon- if a teacher spotted those, it wouldn't be pretty for any of them. Especially him, he had a reputation to uphold and it coming out that he's been having a BDSM relationship with a kid over ten years his Junior would not be good PR with the public or the Avengers. He gave Peter more ointment, telling him to make sure that he used it for the next few days to make sure the welts didn't (at the very least) become infected. They had already used some after getting him washed up and dressed and Peter agreed to use it before kissing Tony flush on the lips and Tony giving him a gentle squeeze on the ass.

He waved goodbye from the garage as Happy drove off to take the boy home. Tony changed the sheets, making sure to get anything with blood washed before it stained. That night, Tony slept fine, having gotten his frustrations out, and nothing woke him until early the next day when he got a frantic call from Peter, screaming at him though the line.

Tony looked at the time, and assumed that the early call was due to him being up for school.

“Mr. Stark!” He shouted at the drowsy man, “You didn't tell me I got suspended! What am I gonna do!?”

“Wanna return the favor?”

“I-I-”

“Don't think so hard about it.”

“Shut up, I'm on my way.”

  



End file.
